Read Online Learning to Swim by Cheryl Klam - Free Book Online Page A

were lying out in the sun (I usually didn't do this, but I wanted to get tan before my party) and her phone rang. I knew it was her boyfriend because after the Ludwig ring, she took it into the house.
    When she came back out, she said, “Steffie, I'm sorry. But I need to go.”
    “Go where?”
    “Out with a friend.”
    “Who?”
    “Look, Steffie. I'm sorry, I am. But I'll make it up to you. Okay?”
    But I didn't want her to make it up to me. I wanted her to do what she had promised.
    “Maybe Alice can take you to the party,” my mom said, which just made the whole thing even worse. I stormed into the house, went into my room, and began slamming my dresser drawers. I pulled out a T-shirt and tossed it over my head.
    Barbie followed me like a heat-seeking missile. “Look,” she said angrily. “It's not like I haven't done anything for you. I bought you new clothes and took you out to lunch. And this is the thanks I get? A temper tantrum? Grow up, Steffie.”
    Now she had gone too far.
Grow up?
And then I said it. “Emily Mills is a hundred and one years old.”
    My mom glanced at me.
    “You lied right to my face.” I waited for a response. At the very least, I thought I was owed an apology.
    “What do you want me to say?” Barbie asked. Then she shook her head and sat down on my bed as if defeated.
    Her surrender took me off guard. It wasn't like Barbie to throw in the towel so soon. “I want you to apologize,” I replied.
    “I'm sorry,” she said. “I know what you're thinking, Stef, and maybe this is unfair of me to ask of you, but you need to give me a chance here.”
    A chance?
“What are you talking about?”
    “This situation may seem familiar, but it's not.”
    I rolled my eyes. “But he's married.”
    “Not happily. He's going to leave his wife. He hasn't been happy for a long time.”
    Information overload. I couldn't take it anymore, so I turned on my stereo, grabbed a copy of
Us Weekly
, and began looking for the “Stars: They're Just Like Us” section.
    And then she said the words I had been waiting for: “This guy is different, Steffie. He's not like the rest. He really loves me. He's even talking about giving me the money to open that store I've been talking about. Today we're going to look at potential sites for it.”
    I turned up the volume, ignoring her. Eventually my mom got the message and went into her room to getready. When she came back out, she was decked out in full mistress gear: high heels along with the tight miniskirt and the asymmetrical boob-revealing shirt she'd bought today. She kissed my forehead and said, “Have fun at your party, okay?”
    “Spending the night?” I nodded toward the Adidas duffel in her hand.
    “No.”
    “What's in the bag, then?”
    She paused for a moment. “Don't wear those old flip-flops of yours tonight. Wear those cute pink ones of mine instead.”
    “No thanks,” I barked. I flipped another page in the magazine so hard I gave myself a paper cut.
    Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her bite her lip. She looked like she was about to speak, and then she shook her head and walked out without saying goodbye. After she left, I turned off my stereo and started to get dressed.
    I did everything I could to not think about my mother. She had her life. If she was determined to ruin it, then so be it. What could I do?
    I only had control over
me.
Wasn't that what all the headshrinks said? I put on the sexpot outfit Barbie had so carefully chosen and brushed my hair. Then I flicked on some of Barbie's mascara and some sparkly strawberry lip gloss, and reluctantly put on her cute pinkshoes. And then I went into the living room and turned on the TV. As I watched a preview for a show about circus animals that was airing that night, I felt a little sad. As in, I kind of wished I hadn't had anything going on that night so I could just stay home in my oversize clothes and watch the show.
    What was wrong with me?
    I should have been bouncing off